The Aftermath
by do-i-dare-to-eat-a-peach
Summary: Every clone who was present on Umbara is getting interviewed by their superiors. Boil is no exception.


"You are Clone Trooper 78-4434?"

"Yes, sir."

"You can relax, soldier. You know that this isn't a disciplinary measure."

"Yes, sir."

"In fact, your record with the Grand Army of the Republic has been most impressive. You served with Ghost Company for the liberation of Ryloth, and were critical to the counter-rebellion effort on Geonosis. Obi-Wan Kenobi and other Jedi generals have offered glowing testimonials as to the quality of your service."

"Thank you, sir."

"Of course…well. Of course there is this other matter. We're…loath to bring it up so soon, but you must understand that this needs to be dealt with in as speedy a manner as possible."

"Of course, sir."

"Alright. Now, personally, what were the physical injuries that you sustained in the skirmish?"

"Slight bruising to the chest, minor abrasions to my lower legs. Two laser bolts to the right bicep."

"And those are healing nicely?"

"Yes, sir."

"Are you sure there are nothing else? Your facial hair has grown past regulation length—again, not that we are disciplining in this regard. Did you suffer any facial abrasions that your beard could now be obscuring from examination?"

"No, sir."

"Right. Well…what we're trying to do here is a difficult task. We realize that. At your own speed, we want you to describe what happened in as much detail as you can. Your comfort is our priority here, soldier. Take as much time as you need."

"…Where should I start, sir?"

"Wherever you feel comfortable."

"I…We had our orders. Coordinates, even. For the Umbarans' attack. We were warned they had already captured…killed…other troopers. They had their armor. We…we thought we'd already lost them."

"The other troopers?"

"Yeah…yeah. Going out, the way everyone was talking…well, we thought we'd be getting some revenge."

"On the Umbarans?"

"Well…yes, sir. But there was a lot of frustration."

"Frustration about?"

"About…him, sir. The General."

"You wanted to get revenge on the General?"

"We wanted to do something right, sir. That's all we wanted from the beginning. The General…he didn't feel right. Didn't ask the right things."

"So, the 212th, your group, you headed out to the ordered coordinates. What happened?"

"It's a bit of a blur, sir."

"I understand. Is there anything you particularly remember?"

"Laser bolts everywhere. Screams. Human screams. I remember thinking that, I remember thinking that the Umbarans screamed just like a human when they went down, and you know what? I loved that. I loved hearing them in pain, knowing we could hurt them. Well, not them. Never them, oh kriff, I just meant that…..we wanted revenge."

"You called it the right thing?"

"Revenge was the right thing. Sir."

"Alright. What else do you remember?"

"Pain. I was shot a few times. Stumbled in some weird plants. Nothing too serious, I made sure to keep going. Keep fighting. And then it was over so quick."

"Who ended it?"

"The Captain. The other Captain, Rex, he…he put himself on the line. And then we realized. Well. Then we realized why they screamed like humans."

"What else happened?"

"Well, once we realized who they were, we stopped fighting. Started counting heads. Looking for…counting heads. Helping medics. The usual? Listen, why the kriff are you asking me this? You've heard from Rex and everyone already, and he's been dead for days, so why exactly am I going through this?"

"We understand that this is painful for you. We want to understand the whole picture as much as we can. But we don't want to cause any discomfort more than we have—"

"Kriffing discomfort, you call this discomfort?"

"You don't?"

"Sitting here talking isn't kriffing discomfort, it's a kriffing privilege. Discomfort. You wanna see discomfort, you ask—

I, look, I crossed a line, didn't I, sir?"

"We're not judging discipline here; it's perfectly all right. Is there something else you wanted to say?"

"Like what? Sir."

"What happened afterwards?"

"After….?"

"After the skirmish. After it ended."

"…..There was no after."

"I don't understand."

"Rex and his little gang, they did the after. Ask them, they went up and shot the bastard, or one of them did, some crazy one. They kept going, you need to be asking them this skrog."

"Are you saying you didn't keep going?"

"How many times do I have to repeat myself?!"

"I don't—"

"There was no after for me! It happened!"

"And then…"

"No 'then'! No 'after'! Get it?!"

"Boil, you said—"

"That's not my name!"

"I—"

"I said that's not my kriffing name! Not anymore!"

"Why not?"

"It doesn't work anymore!"

"Meaning?"

"It's missing something."

"….Soldier, you said you were looking for someone?"

"Are we done here?"

"After…when you were counting heads, you said you were looking for someone?"

"The kriff do you care?"

"Did you find him?"

"Who?"

"I don't know. Did you find him?"

"...Eventually."

"Meaning?"

"Too kriffing late, is that what you want to hear?"

"Is that what you want to say?"

"Rex found him, alright? Ask him."

"Did Rex know him?"

"Barely. Sir."

"But you knew him?"

"Yeah."

"He was a friend?"

"Yeah."

"Brother?"

"Why the kriff do you ask?"

"I think you're aware of the kinship between many clones, Boi—soldier. A kind of brotherhood. Did you feel this way about him?"

"We fought together."

"I see."

"And the alien skrog is dead."

"Right. And now?"

"Now what?"

"I can't answer that."

"Look, I told you, 'now' is 'after' and 'after' is nothing."

"…Did it really end?"

"Oh, this is too much."

"What would have ended it for you?

Soldier?"

"Can I…oh, this is kriffing stupid."

"What is it?"

"I want to say 'Goodbye, Neera.'"

"What is—"

"Can I kriffing say it?"

"You can say whatever you want, soldier.

Soldier?"

"You didn't understand that."

"Does that matter?"

"Yes, sir."

"CT-74—"

"It'll keep going on, sir."

"It doesn't have to—"

"I think I know. Sir."

"…Is there anything else you'd like to tell me?"

"No, sir."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, sir."

"You can always come back here if you think of anything."

"Yes, sir."

"Alright. You can leave whenever you'd like."

"Right. Well. Goodbye…sir."


End file.
